


The Drunk Lieutenant

by harnatano (orphan_account)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack, M/M, angbang, drunk dark lords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/harnatano





	The Drunk Lieutenant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jardindesetoiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jardindesetoiles/gifts).



“M’Lord! Look at me! I am a butterfly!”  
As he finished his sentence, the lieutenant jumped from the table and turned into a small butterfly… With a large beak and dragon wings, obviously too heavy for its little body. It rolled on the ground under Melkor amused gaze, and after a few vain attempts, the insect finally turned into Mairon again. The Maia’s powers were truly amazing, but when he was drunk he could barely make the difference between a rabbit and a bat, which made his transformations a bit more… hazardous. 

“I am fine, don’t worry I am perfectly fine.” Said the Maia who was trying to stand up, swinging dangerously on his legs.  
“Fine yes… Except for the three bottles of liquor you drank in one hour.”  
“What bottles m’lord?”  
The Vala didn’t reply, but he glanced at the empty glass on the table instead, and Mairon found nothing to do but smiling innocently. “I only had a few sips…” A hiccup reached the back of his throat but he managed to bit it back, wincing as the acid sensations bubbled in his stomach.  
“Only a few sips and you cannot stay on your legs… You’re getting old Mairon…”  
The Maia snorted disdainfully and prepared to leave, but he stumbled and after a few graceful movements, fell down on the cold marble. Melkor’s laugh echoed loudly in the room, and the Maia wriggled on the ground, trying to stand up again. But despite his efforts, his body was unwilling to obey and he decided to lie there, half unconscious, half waiting for some help.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“I should have let you sleep on the floor.”  
“But I’m having so much fun m’lord !”  
A new bottle in his right hand, the other tangled in Melkor’s hair, Mairon was straddling his master’s back, his legs wrapped around the Vala’s waist and he was happily wriggling his hips as to make him move faster.  
“Mairon get down!”  
“Turn left!” The Maia cried pulling Melkor’s hair to the left. “Come oooon! tuuuurn!!”  
Yet, not paying attention to the drunk lieutenant on his back, the Vala turned right, walking peacefully towards his throne. “If I sit now Mairon, you might regret it.”  
“No no don—”  
But the Vala was already sitting, a malicious smirk upon his lips, crushing his lieutenant between his back and the back of the throne, his legs smashed between its arms and Melkor’s sides.  
“How are you feeling Mairon?”  
A series of inaudible mumbles escaped from the Vala’s back and two long arms tried to grip something… anything: a hand, a nipple, a lip or a hip.

Finally Mairon’s hand found its way to Melkor’s nose while the other wandered between the Vala’s thighs. Melkor let out a gasp at the unexpectd sensation between his legs, but Mairon was already pinching his nose, causing with this movement, the Vala’s suffocation. Struggling between the lieutenant’s arms, Melkor managed to catch the hand on his nose, but purposely let the other where it was. Behind him, Mairon’s muffled voice echoed, and although Melkor could barely understand the words, he quicky noticed the threat in them. Yet, the Vala laughed at that and smiled at the pinches along his thigh. It was actually very pleasant, more than expected by Mairon who was still trying to free his other hand from his Master’s grip.

After a few moments of this awkward sitting ballet, Melkor began to get tired of all this (He expected a bit more from Mairon’s wandering hand but the Maia wasn’t willing to give him what he wanted), and he stood up, leaving his lieutenant alone on the throne. Catching his breath (he hadn’t been able to breath correctly during all this time), Mairon looked up at his master who was purposely ignoring him now, and despite his drunkenness, the Maia managed to re-do his hair.  
“Master…”  
The Vala didn’t reply, pouring himself a glass of wine instead.  
“Master… Master… Mastermastermastermastermastermaster.” Nedless to say the Maia didn’t like to be ignored. At all. “Mastermastermastermastermastermastermastermastermaster.”  
“WHAT?”  
A joyful, innocent smile upon his lips, Mairon tilted his head (or at least he tried but his head was swinging dangerously). “Master… Could you come back and sit against me? I’m cold.”


End file.
